


Never Simple

by orphan_account



Series: Teen Wolf ficlets [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demonic Possession, Episode: s03e22 De-Void, Explicit Language, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1323418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the nogitsune's flies had reached Allison rather than Derek, she might have gone after him instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Simple

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rashaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rashaka/gifts).



> Written quickly and barely edited, as always with these tiny fics, so please not to be taking overly seriously. (Not to mention it's spring break so my writing soundtrack is a constant stream of tween TV and kids running in and out of the house. So, you know.) The title is from [this quote](http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/o/oscarwilde101825.html).
> 
> This is what Rashaka gets for [prompting in her tags](http://rashaka.tumblr.com/post/79428213353/ohai-its-me-meranaamjoker-i-had-to-temporarily-shut). :-D

“I’m on my way.” Derek hangs up the phone and then heads for the door, keys in hand. No sooner has he slid it open, though, than a blinding pain strikes the back of his neck and he drops to all fours. He barely manages to rip the prongs of the stun gun free before they incapacitate him. A boot to his face sends him rolling back into his apartment, and he looks up to see Allison Argent sliding the door closed again behind her.

“Hello, Derek,” she says. “Where exactly do you think you’re going?”

“What are you doing?” He stumbles to his feet.

She advances, sending him into a slow retreat backwards. “I think we’re overdue for a chat.”

Derek speaks carefully, trying to gauge the situation without letting his instincts take over. “This isn’t you.” Behind his back, he hits the “send” button. The screen was still on Chris Argent’s contact info so it should go right to him.

Allison smiles, lips unsteady, and levels her crossbow at him. “Why would you think that? Don’t I have enough reason to kill you?”

The answer to _why would you think that_ is that the twins and Isaac have apparently lost their shit in tandem with Allison, or at least that’s what Kira’s frantic phone call to Derek indicated. “We each have enough reason to try to kill the other.” The volume of his phone is turned down as far as it can go without muting—his ears hurt when he uses it any other way—but he can hear Chris’s recorded voice reciting his number and inviting him to leave a message. He must already be on his way to the school. Concealing a grimace of frustration, Derek hangs up and puts the phone in his back pocket. “I thought both of us had decided it was more productive to work together.”

“Yeah, well, my _dad_ thought so, but in our family, the women make the decisions.” She tosses a rope in his direction; Derek catches it automatically and then curses, dropping it to the floor and examining his palms. “Wolfsbane oil,” she explains, smile widening to a feral grin. “Tie your feet. And don’t try to do it loosely. That’ll just get you shot.”

Teeth gritted against the pain, he sits on his bed and obeys. When the job is done, she strolls a little closer to examine his work. “Good.” She walks back to her bag, keeping her eyes fixed on him, and rifles through it without her crossbow wavering.

Even though all appeals had seemed wasted on the nogitsune inside Stiles, Derek decides to chance it again. “Allison, you’re under the nogitsune’s control. This isn’t you. There has to be some part of you that can hear this.”

Allison laughs, straightening to brandish a pair of shackles. “Derek. You’re forgetting what I did to Boyd. No evil fox spirit forced me to fill him with arrows. This is all me.”

Fear and anger surge through him. He buries the first and latches onto the second, using it to hold himself in check. “No, I’m not forgetting. I did worse to him.”

She stops, arrested. “The twins forced you.”

They did. They did, and yet… “If anger hadn’t been my anchor, they wouldn’t have been able to force me. If I’d had the restraint an Alpha is supposed to have.” He carefully does _not_ look at the crossbow as he speaks. “They wouldn’t have been able to use me as their tool if I’d controlled my shift with something else.”

Something flashes across her face, a quick glimpse of genuine emotion that convinces him the real Allison Argent is in there. Derek doesn’t fully trust Chris Argent, but he trusts the older man’s belief in his code. Allison has always been more antagonistic, which makes sense considering her mother and aunt. Still, one thing Derek’s learned over the course of the last year: Scott McCall is almost always right about people. And Scott loved Allison, which means that more than likely she deserved to be loved. The behavior after her mom died must have been an aberration. Derek can understand that.

He speaks quickly, pressing his advantage. Every minute he stalls is another minute for Scott to figure out how to fix this.  “Your dad said that your code has changed. That _you_ changed it. You’re the one who said that Argents should protect those who can’t protect themselves.” In fact, he realizes, the real Allison must be struggling for control, because the nogitsune’s plan is really shitty. The rope won’t hurt him now that it’s only touching his clothes. If that crossbow dips just a little bit lower…

“That doesn’t really describe you,” she snarls, and throws the shackles on the bed.

The instant she does, her aim tilts enough for him to risk it. Within seconds, he’s snapped the rope, knocked the crossbow across the room, and pinned her to the bed. She fights dirty, but not efficiently, which confirms his suspicions about her internal struggle. Keeping her wrists trapped above her head, he fumbles around until her legs are shackled to his bedframe.

“How many knives do you have?” he asks, but she just grins again with that manic light in her eye, so he has to search her. Two ring daggers, a Taser, a wrist dagger, one at her ankle and one inside a concealed compartment in the heel of her boot. For someone who wears tiny little skirts and hose all the time, she has a real talent for finding hiding places in her clothes. All the weapons get flung across the room to join the crossbow.

“Like what you see?” she taunts when he flips her to her side to run his hand across the small of her back, then down her legs. There’s a tiny knife in yet another sheath around her upper thigh, just beneath the hemline of her skirt.  “How’s it feel to be the one doing this instead of having it done to you?”

The answer is _more complicated than it should_ so he retreats, pulling out his phone and dialing Chris again. Still no answer. Allison sits up on the bed to glare at him.

He tries to reassure whatever part of her might be able to hear. “Scott’s working on a way to take care of this.”

The glare disappears, replaced with wide-eyed innocence. “Is it nice to have an Alpha who’s actually competent, instead of being one who’s a consistent fuck-up?”

Fury heaves below the restraints he’s placed around it, but giving the nogitsune any reaction will only feed it, so instead he responds with a blank face and a simple, “Yes.”

“Aaww, Derek.” Her dimples deepen as she peeps up at him from beneath her eyelashes. “That’s gotta hurt. Kate did say you were nothing but a big, dumb animal though. I guess she was right.”

He pretends to ignore her, focusing on his phone instead so he can text Scott. _Any idea how much longer?_

“I mean, any guy whose sister doesn’t even want to get in touch with him after the rest of their family’s barbecued—well, besides their other sister who got sliced and diced by their own uncle—has to be some kind of pathetic.”

No reply from Scott, so he tries Peter. _What’s going on?_

“Which I guess explains why Scott didn’t want to join your pack. To be honest, I’m surprised he even called for you, the night you bit my mom. He should’ve known you would fuck it up.”

How much of this is the nogitsune, and how much Allison? He might never again have an excuse to explain himself without admitting that he cares enough to try, so he takes it. “I only tried to get Scott out. She’s the one who attacked me with a knife when I was already choking on wolfsbane.” A pause, while he weighs the wisdom of giving the nogitsune more ammunition against the possibility that Allison might hear. “It was an accident. I wish I hadn’t bitten her.”

Too many emotions, two beings’ worth, flicker on her face. She spits out, “Accident, my ass. You must have been waiting since Kate burned your house down to get your revenge. Good thing my mom gave you a reason everyone but me can believe.”

“I know what it’s like, to lose a mother when you’re barely an adult. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” Thinking of Kate, he amends, “Almost anyone.” Although he’s heard rumors that Gerard didn’t really go off the rails until his wife, the Argent matriarch, died, so maybe it would’ve been better for everyone if she hadn’t.

She switches gears with dizzying speed. “Well, it’s no surprise you couldn’t do it on purpose.” With a sudden yank of her ankles against the shackles, she tests their strength and then growls in frustration before turning the smile back on. “When did you ever do anything right, after all? You tried to kill Lydia, you tried to make a pack of your own, you tried to sleep with a woman who _wasn’t_ a cold-blooded killer, and look at you now. Failure on every count.”

It’s all true. Every word. The shame and rage, always lurking, draw closer to the surface. But his mother’s words still ring in his ears, and the thing Talia told him first was that he was only a failure if he didn’t protect Beacon Hills. For better or worse, Allison is part of Beacon Hills, and that means she’s part of what he protects. She’s not the only one who can change her code. “This isn’t you,” he says again, and that’s true too. Allison is better than this.

“Are you sure?” She flirts her shoulder at him and tosses her hair. “Maybe I’ve always been this way. Maybe you’re wrong. Shocking thought.”

He used to think he saw Kate in her every move, but Kate was never afraid, because she had nothing to lose. “I don’t think I am.” Allison was absolutely terrified when the Oni materialized in his loft; he could smell it pouring from her skin in waves even as she readied herself for combat. Anyone who gets that frightened, and fights anyway, cares a lot.

Once again, the smile disappears, and she writhes with frustration, digging her nails into her arms and raking them down until they draw blood. Anything for chaos, even damaging the host. Swearing, Derek leaps across the room and grabs her wrists to stop her. She laughs again, taking a faux-playful snap at his face with her teeth in a move that’s almost wolfish. “That’s better. I think about you holding me sometimes, you know. Of course I didn’t expect it to go quite like this...”

He can’t think how to answer, because the admission has the feel of genuine candor, and that candor does weird things to his gut.

Before he can dig up a response, her eyes roll back in her head. Black blood starts to trickle from her nose and mouth. Horror shoots through him— _Paige, she looks just like Paige and this can’t happen again_ —and he catches her to his chest as she slumps, unconscious. “Allison. Allison!”

She doesn’t respond, but the sound of her heartbeat, steady and calm, reaches through the gathering haze of panic to steady him. Maybe it’s over. Maybe he bought enough time for Scott to fix things. He cradles her in his arms anyway, too freaked out by the blood to believe his own reassurances.

When her heartbeat speeds up a little, a few minutes later, he removes the shackles and then crosses to the other side of the room, checking his phone. Her eyes open, and she’s on her feet within seconds. “Derek?”

“Gear up,” he tells her, indicating the pile of discarded weaponry at his feet. “Scott needs us.”

She’s bone pale, but doesn’t waste time with questions. Instead, she obeys him in silence. As he slides his door open, though, she starts, “I’m—”

He cuts her off. “It wasn’t you.”

She isn’t finished, he can tell, but she lets it lie for now. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Together, they leave to join their Alpha.


End file.
